Bruise Factory by Zoe Dzunko
Aging is a bruising experience. If people had the option of seeing their future how many would believe it. The joy of living in the present means having hope for the future. Loss of this hope is considered a form of depression. Future needs hope otherwise what else is it. Hope defines the future. Whoever loses hope is considered a fool, a downcast downtrodden individual down on their luck taking it out on the unknowable.
The past is celebrated in the future. Right in the present few realize how good they have it. Youth is wasted on the young while they race through their years. Every year get shorter with every New Year’s Eve. Down water slides the sides become blurs. Getting plunged into deep water an individual gets the speed wrong every time. Skies change from above. Nobody can predict the end of one of their seasons. A date is there to mark the next phase of life. Being sixteen seems terrible but in hindsight it seems beautiful.
Cubicles are humans trying to impersonate insects. Too small to live in cubicles are big enough to support an individual for eight hours or longer depending on the need. Fogs of joy cover up the pain of work. Enjoying work can happen. It requires the right vision to see where the goal is, what should be aimed for and what should be avoided. Due to insufficient light it is hard to realize what goal is the best. Advice from others only goes so far to explain anything.
Strength comes with age. That is one of the main benefits. Wisdom slowly transfers itself with each passing year. Plenty wish they had known it earlier or listened earlier. It can be difficult to listen at such a young age, when the joy of youth screams in the ears and refuses to hear a thing. Hearing gets easier with age. Regret does too. With every year there are more missed opportunities. One of the best things to do with the aging process is to do it, to take chances and do the things that become impossible with age.
Flavor of life gets more subtle with age. Passion decreases. Emotions even out. Scientists work day and night trying to make junk food taste like other junk food for people who have forgotten what their childhood tasted like. Nobody knows or even cares what a potato tastes like now that a potato can taste like anything. Thanks to science junk food has no limit.
Eventually the best way to see childhood becomes parenthood. It is a weird experience. Few ever know what to expect from their offspring. Sure parents love the idea of little versions of themselves but do they know what will happen to those little versions, will they realize what the world holds or be defined by their surroundings. Parents remember their surroundings differently as their past and their present tries to battle it out, seeing who will win. It is best when neither side wins. The world is reflected by the past, present and future.